


Little Tornado

by Misterkingdom



Series: How Mercy Looks From Here [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Earth-3, M/M, Molestation, Past Underage, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 15:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1823047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misterkingdom/pseuds/Misterkingdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you're too good for me now, then I'll make it so you won't be." -Joyce Lakeland, the Killer inside me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Tornado

**Author's Note:**

> This is a snippet from my failed mirror-verse fanfiction, 'How Mercy Looks from Here'. I'll be salvaging it for the parts I like and posting shards from it periodically.
> 
> (This particular snippet is seriously unedited and unrevised. Proceed with caution).

_The sky above Gotham City Storage was the color of led. Rain pissed down from the iron heaven, welding together with a gas leak of fog. The mechanized, scrape of wind searched through the storage units, breaking the silence of the defunct complex. Haloed pearls of faraway streetlamps fended off the mysterious black, giving Talon the chance to navigate the labyrinth of units until he arrived at number thirteen._

_The lock crumbled with one swing of his crowbar._

_The knot of children, hidden in the corner, watched his shadow slink across the wet floor of storage unit thirteen. Their faces baptized with mud and other things. They trembled as the cold and damp rushed past Dick and brushed goose bumps into their skin. Their eyes were glassy with unshed desperation. They were fucked up and starving._

_“What are you going to do with us?” Dick could just make out the girl’s voice over the wind. She couldn’t have been more than ten. Frail in a faded Lion King t-shirt hanging past her knees. Her earth black skin painted with purple-black clouds of bruises and serpentine keloids. Her hair knotted in ropes around plastic crown._

_Dick kneeled in front of the young girl. He smoothed the lines of her shirt. “I’m going to call a friend of mine, alright? His name is James Gordon—he’s the commissioner.”_

_The girl’s dark eyebrows knitted together. Dick cupped her satin soft cheek. “Don’t worry. He’s a good guy.”_

_“Are you?” The little boy standing next to the girl could’ve been eight. He wore a yellow and blue stripped sweater matted with rust. Jewels of gold created by far off streetlights floated in his glossy, black pupils._

_“Am I what, kid?”_

_“A good guy?”_

_Dick cupped the child’s cheek. The hope in the kid’s eyes flickered off as the seconds ticked by. “No.”_

_Antifreeze green eyes watched him from the back of the downtrodden horde. Firecracker hair so red, the black smoke of fog over Gotham City Storage couldn’t put it out._

_Peter Todd, AKA the boogeyman of Gotham, had disappeared more children than the influenza. He was the biggest kiddie porn peddler this side of Star City. Dick had retired the man with a bullet to the temple after he had led Dick on a chase around the shadow soaked city, looking for this sorry bunch of children. Dick couldn’t reconcile the protection racket Owlman had going with Petey Pedophile._

_“Hang on, kids. The police will be here soon.” That meant Dick had to vanish. He patted the boy’s shoulder before standing up. The sea of children parted until he got to the little ginger in the back. The child was waist high. His acid green gaze didn’t waver. “Kid, your dad was one sick puppy.”_

_“So is yours.” The boy said._

_“Shoulda seen that one coming.” Dick smirked._

_The boy’s face was covered in a constellation of freckles. “He never touched me, ya know.”_

_“I know.” Dick said. “You were Peter Pan luring all the other kiddies away from their warm beds and into someone else’s.” The symphony of sniffles, sobs and sighs echoing through the bare container punctuated Dick’s statement._

_The envy green gaze watched the downtrodden horde. He looked at them like a kid with a magnifying glass would an ant. He turned on Dick with his eyes predator blank. “…Sorry.”_

_Jason Todd doesn’t regret a thing._

_*_

The boy with the silencer endowed .44 magnum pressed to Dick’s temple sucked in a breath. “I’m gonna take everything you are, Dickie.”

 “Jay—“Dick said between razor breaths. “I’m sorry—“

“Fuck you.” Jason said as he jabbed the lip of his gun harder into Dick’s cheek. The cheap bed complained under the fifteen year old’s weight and Dick’s own. It was multiplied by the hand-me-down Talon armor Jason was wearing. It looked better on him than it ever did on Dick.

The boy’s silhouette was haloed by pearls of light from the Gotham City Radio tower leaking through Dick’s window. His face was draped in a scrim of shadows. The harsh lights behind him made the rainwater dripping off Jason turn into glittering snow.  

He straddled Dick’s hips and pushed down, hissing when he got contact where he needed it most. Dick laid granite still. His fingers twisted in the bed sheet.

“After I take this city, I’m gonna take you—whenever I want, however I want.” The gun floated down to the pillow, beside Dick’s head. The led weight of Jason’s chest pressed against his own. Jason’s sandpaper dry lips brushed Dick’s earlobe. “You’re gonna get on your knees for me, Dickie boy.”

Dick lifted his knee in a halfhearted attempted to knock the boy off. Jason laughed like Dick had made a joke and cupped Dick’s hips to remind him he was trying to get the jump on the Gotham High Private School wrestling champ of ’95. Jason pressed his lips against Dick's—it anchored Dick down. Jason forced his tongue into Dick's mouth—inexperienced and too eager. The taste of chocolate lava cake—a lot like the one Alfie prepared for Owlman’s society party—invaded Dick's mouth. Jason nipped Dick’s bottom lip before pulling back.

 “When I get through with you, you’ll never call me ‘little brother’ again. You’re gonna call me daddy.” He curled his fingers in Dick’s sweat soaked hair and pulled, exposing the pale expanse of Dick’s neck. He bit down to leave fruit rotten bruises.

“I’m twenty five.” It’s all the indistinct static in Dick's head could come up with. He couldn’t do that to the kid. Not after it was done to him in a dark closet at the St. Jude’s Boys home Owlman plucked him from.

Jason trapped Dick’s wrist against the metal pipe passing for his headboard and rubbed Dick’s wrist with his thumb. He fumbled his way into Dick’s mouth and pushed his knee up between Dick's legs. Jason smelled of weed. Jason took a shaky breath that rumbled through Dick’s core. “If you’re too good for me now—“

"Jay…"

“—then I’ll make it so you won’t be.”

Jason took head Talon. Jason Took Owlman every night. Jason took Dick’s room. Jason planned to take Gotham by rallying every piece of shit, bottom feeder gang the city of shadows could hack up in a plot to knock Owlman off his throne of blood and regret.

Jason didn’t take Dick because he fought. Having a couple inches and thirty pounds extra than the boy made all the difference.

Jason got greedy. Owlman made sure Jason got dead.


End file.
